


Take Me to Church

by Gnilnim27



Series: Darkling He Waits [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alpha!Percival, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Omega!Credence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:27:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 15,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9265667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gnilnim27/pseuds/Gnilnim27
Summary: Picks up directly after the events inA Ghost of a ChanceMary Lou Barebone comes a-calling.





	1. Chapter 1

It was the banging that jostled Percival out of his sleep, a sharp insistent thing that dragged him from the warm cocoon of dreams wrapped in softness and the pleasant smell of Credence’s natural scent, fresh out of heat. Percival groaned as he turned in his bed. It was far too early, the sunlight barely filtered through his window, leaving the room looking soft and almost dream like.

Percival almost drifted off again when his serenity was shattered by the rude pounding. The alpha sighed, he was up now so there was nothing to it but to check and if possible squash this nuisance before it woke Credence up.

As he sat up, he looked at the sleeping figure at his side. There, burrowed deep into his bed with only the tuft of hair strikingly dark against the cream-coloured duvet was his omega. Credence was dead to the world after they had mated again and again. Percival was relieved that none of the noise stirred the boy from his slumber.

Noise that he planned to put a stop to very soon. He shrugged on his robe without bothering for pants, the robe was long enough on it’s own to be decent. If anyone were to take offence at his calf and ankles, too bad for them.

Entering his living room, it became increasingly clear with each step he took that the incessant banging was happening on his door. Percival drew a deep breath as he steeled himself before opening the door.

He looked down to find a vaguely familiar looking beta woman in front of his door. The woman looked at his face then down his robe to his exposed calves and ankles. Her mouth twisted into something ugly. 

“So it is you,” she said, her accusatory tone dropping down hard on the “it”. “The way you looked at him, I should have know it would have been you from the beginning,” she added, her hands gripping the handle on her purse so hard that Percival thought she might break it in two.

“Ah, Mary Lou Barebone,” he said. He remembered now, that voice like nails on a chalkboard to his ears, talking up a storm at the steps of his building. Impossible not to hear even if you didn’t see her. Worst still was the small crowd that gathered to listen and Credence of course. 

The hunched in scared omega, standing in her shadow with flyers in his cold bare hands that told the world that people like him and Percival were succubi in human form. He had thought that perhaps she could be reasoned with, had been wholly prepared to set aside his pride if Credence wanted him to meet her. Now, however, it was impossible. Percival was a generous man but he was not that generous. 

“You should leave before I have you arrested,” he added as calmly as he could. He was one raw nerve away from physical violence, the alpha part of him seeing her as nothing less than a threat. The only thing that held him back was the thought that Credence would very much not appreciate him having smacked his mother around. Never mind that the woman was very probably the one who planted all the scars on his slight frame.

The Barebone lady scowled. “For what?” she said, her too thin brows drawing together in a dramatic fashion not unlike when she was giving one of her hateful talks.

“A hate crime. You are quite famous for your view on people like me,” Percival warned as he slipped his hands into his pockets, least he wring her neck with them. Something about her just rubbed him raw with irritation.

“Hah,” she scoffed. “I’ve committed no crime,” she retorted, her head held high and chin out in a fierce defiance.

“It will be when I say it is,” Percival replied, looming over her threateningly with his considerable height. The beta woman met his gaze unflinchingly, her jaw clenching and her blue eyes burnt something fierce.

“God damn you, god damn the both of you. Only hellfire can rid your souls of the debauchery, the beast that you are! You can tell Credence that I’m no longer his ma!” she said, the whole of her small form shook with her righteous rage. She eyed Percival up and down again before turning to leave, her heels stomping down the corridor loud and sharp. 

He watched her receding back, making sure that the shrewish thing turned down the corner out of his view before stepping back into his apartment and closing the door none too gently. 

When he turned, he instantly felt his heart in his throat. There, curled on the living room sofa and wrapped in his bed sheets, sat Credence, hands shaking where he gripped at the sheets as the beginning of tears gathered at the corner of his eyes.

Well, so much for meeting his parents, Percival thought as he moved to the sofa and wrapped his arms around the boy. There was nothing to be done but to let him ride out his pain as he felt wetness against his cheek. 

******

Credence’s earliest memory had been one of a hard bed in a dull room willed with brown and grey things that looked to be held together by will alone. He remembered crying, he wasn’t sure why anymore but remembered feeling small and lonely. He remembered his Ma coming through the doorway. She stood stiffly in a dark dress, a few feet from his bed, his eyes at level with her knobby knees. 

“Pain builds character, Credence. It will built you up and make you strong but tears are for the weak,” she said, her voice stern with a conviction that told Credence that the only response was to nod. She smiled, it looked like a broken thing across her lips but her eyes held some warmth to them as she stroked the top of his head. 

There was a time with his Ma where soft pats to the hand were a more common occurrence than whips from a belt. When he presented, she looked so disappointed. Credence had cried and cried and prayed for god to make him a beta. Thirteen years old and an omega, his Ma could have turned him to the streets and she looked like she wanted to but she didn’t. Now she had rid herself of him and Credence felt like he had been torn in half.

Graves’s strong arms were the only thing grounding him, keeping him from falling apart. The alpha had said not a single word since he closed the door and Credence was grateful for it. He could hardly deal with all the other voices in his head, some sounding like his Ma’s and others like his sisters. His sisters, now all alone with no one to shield them from his mother’s wrath. 

Chastity might survive but Modesty had yet to present and Credence had a strong feeling that the youngest of his sisters would present as an alpha. She was rebellious in her own quiet and subtle way, her face often carefully blank but he had caught her eyes when Ma had her belt in hand. It was something very close to hate. 

“I shouldn't have come here,” Credence said, tears streaming freely down his face as he sunk deeper into regret. If he had been taken in the streets, Ma might be more forgiving to her circumstance. 

“Rubbish,” Graves replied, there was a fierceness in his voice that made Credence bow his head and expose his neck. The alpha sighed into the neck offered to him, the arms that held Credence relaxing slightly. “If you must blame someone, blame me,” he said with a gentle kiss to his neck.

Credence looked up, the guilt pouring in with his regrets but the guilt was stronger. “I’m sorry, Mr Graves,” he murmured, how ungrateful he must have sound to this man who was so kind to him during his heat and kind to him still.

“You can make it up to me. Starting by calling me Percival,” Graves said, his smile was tentative but his eyes were warm. It was enough to make Credence broken heart pull itself together, admittedly feeble but prepared to be whole again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence gets some unexpected guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh dear, sorry the update took forever! Lots of things have been happening with work and I fell sick and hit a huge writer's block for this fic but yes things are in order again! Here's hoping to regular updates in the future.

Percival had never in his life known anxiety of this measure, not even the time his mother had all but abandoned him at boarding school could compare. He was plagued with it since leaving his apartment. He wondered if giving his mere words had reassured Credence enough that he was serious about their continued relationship. If Credence saw his promises as badly sugar coated words and left a hollow empty apartment for him to return to... that did not bear thinking about. 

He should have bitten him, that way he would have spared himself the agony. Credence would be his and could never leave him. Percival shivered as he his hands grasped the nearest solid surface. He was utterly revolting, his thoughts, that thought was unforgivable. He could almost hear his omega sister chiding him in her annoying voice. 

He straightened up and smoothed away unseen wrinkles on his coat. This was ridiculous. It had barely been half an hour since he left home. He had a bank to run and an office to get to, he reminded himself as he climbed up the steps to the Woolworth. Business does not simply sit waiting even if one felt that the world should stop for a little while. 

The populace gave him a wide breadth as he made his way in, several alphas even hesitated getting into the lift with him. They got in then immediately got out muttering to themselves. An old alpha threw him a death glare that Percival steadily returned.

It wasn’t as if he was unaware that he was leaking obnoxiously territorial pheromones with every breath. Society deemed such behaviour indecent. Had he been an omega, Percival was certain that someone would have flagged down security and have him escorted out of the building for being a distraction. 

The lift doors chimed opened.

“Mr Graves!” A startled Miss Goldstein said, she hesitated only a moment before stepping into the lift with him. Percival was almost proud of her; being an alpha herself, she must be at the very least aware of his condition.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked once they started moving.

Percival regarded her briefly before speaking, “You think I shouldn't have come to work?” 

Tina looked back at him, her lips slightly pursed. “I think that you’ll find a way to make this work to your advantage regardless of what anyone thinks,” she replied in an uncharacteristic display of tact and subtlety. 

Percival looked at her long and hard. “You’re courting,” he remarked, as the faint scent of an omega drifted off her. Percival frowned slightly, immediately drawing a comparison to Credence’s scent of apples and cinnamon. He found this one to be, not offensive per se, but lacking.

“So have you I see,” she said with a small smile on her lips. 

The older alpha blinked then made a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat and they sunk back into silence again till the doors opened. As Percival crossed the floor to his office he left a wake of gossip behind him. He sighed as he closed the door and sat at his desk, rubbing his fingers against his temple. No doubt everyone in the building would be well informed on his change of status come noon. 

 

******

Credence was seated stiffly on the sofa in the hall in the slightly too loose clothes of Mr Graves, his eyes vacant as he was lost in his own thoughts. The entire morning played itself over and over again in his mind’s eye. He wondered what it meant for him. He felt like a boat tattered and beaten in a storm, threatened to be swallowed whole by the next looming wave.

Then there was Mr Graves, no, Percival. Percival had held him and whispered kind words to him in a way that couldn't be anything other than love. Percival who talked and talked even as he prepared himself to leave, even as he was was evidently unused to words through his many pauses. The alpha did so simply because he noticed that his voice soothed Credence. 

The kiss bestowed upon his lips by the door as firm hands cradled his face with such caution as if he were in fear of shattering Credence, gentle with more soft promises whispered onto his lips. Despite all Percival’s care or more accurately because of all his care, it left Credence feeling even more overwhelmed.

He was so lost in thought that the knocking on the door caused him to jump. Credence turned in his seat to eye the door at the end of the short corridor. It was plain as ever but somehow at the moment, it seemed to evoke an unexpected sense of nerves.

It couldn't possibly be Mr Grav-Percival, it was too early and Percival had told him that he would be home in time for dinner. The alpha could have decided to cancel work after all and come home, but Percival hardly struck him as the kind to take to spontaneous flights of fancy. It might Ma but that was even less likely.

“Hello! We asked the neighbour and she said that you’re still in there!” cried a distinctly female voice, slightly muffled through the door. 

Credence gripped the back of the sofa as another female voice travelled through the door, softer, her words indiscernible and slightly disapproving if the tone was anything to go by. 

“What? I just want to meet him! I’m curious and you are too, I know!” the first female voice cried, affronted. The speaker had an air of importance about her, self-importance that is. A tone that Credence often associated with the people that gave him unkind looks as he tried to hand them pamphlets. People that tend to talk over him and called him a freak as they walked by in their beautiful coats and suits. 

“Come on! Open up!” the same voice said again. It directed him in a way that one would direct a pet.   
Credence wondered if he ought to call Percival after all the number was just sitting there beside the telephone. Did this constitute as an emergency? Was he in trouble enough to warrant bothering Percival at work? What would he say? Tell him that two stage women were at his door?

A second voice spoke, “I’m terribly sorry to intrude this way, but it would be very kind of you to open up a little.”

Credence did not move from where he was now crouched in his seat. The second voice sounded kinder but she was still in association with the first voice, so he didn’t quite know what to make of her.

The second voice spoke again, “Please, I’d rather not shout through the door.”

Credence bit his lip as he approached the door. He grabbed the heaviest looking book from the nearby shelf and unlocked the door with a mostly steady hand.

“Ah! There you are! Finally!” the owner of the first voice said, she was a petite thing with a small sharp face, big doll-like eyes and dark hair. 

“Do behave, can’t you see that he’s recoiling from you?” the second woman said. She was taller, older, hair just as dark. They were sisters it would it would appear or at least related. “Ignore her, she does that to people."

If it weren’t for years and years of well-bred manners whipped into the very core of his being, Credence would have shut the door in their faces. Instead, he very stiffly said, “Mr Grave-Percival Graves isn’t in.” 

The smaller woman laughed, a tinkling soft sound that he supposed some people must find charming but it only made him frown. “Of course we know, silly! We’re here to see you,” she said with an excitement that made the hair on Credence’s skin stand.

“Sorry, but I don’t know you,” he said as politely as he could before closing the door. Despite the older woman saying something like, “Wait!” Credence closed it so fast that he hadn’t realised the younger of the two women had stuck her foot in the doorway till her scream echoed through the building.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the plot thickens... ;)

Meetings were a necessary evil, no one liked them but none could deny their usefulness especially when Percival Graves led them. If there was a problem, he would squeeze a solution out of it. It was said that Director Graves could squeeze milk from a stone from the sheer will of his determination and the intensity of his brows. 

Today was no different, Percival ironed out wrinkles that had risen during his absence and hammered down any doubts that implied that he was losing his touch after his sudden three day “holiday”. Later, he would have a word with his own staff on the peril of loose tongue wagging. He had always been a hard to please perfectionist, he was aware of that but today he was positively satanic.

When the doors of the meeting room clicked softly open, the inhabitants of the said room poured out on weak knees or a spinning head. Percival himself was prepared to leave of the refuge of his personal office, where he could use his lunch time to drop by his apartment with maybe some flowers. Did Credence like flowers he wondered?

He was already falling into his mental file of botany that had been drilled into his mind as a young child, dragged around the garden at the knees of his mother who suffered a brief madness in competition for Best Garden on spring. It left a mark on Percival’s young mind and a dent in his father’s wallet.

“Mr Graves,” said the deep bellowing voice from behind him. 

Percival took a deep breath to stifle his annoyance as he flicked the lock on his briefcase shut audibly.

“Mr Goode, how can I help you?” He asked as he wondered why on earth was this man here. Mr Goode was a person of the bank at almost the same rank as he was but was not part of Percival’s department and therefore had no business being here.

“Will you be so good as to join me for lunch? I have an important matter to discuss,” he said, twitching his white broom brush of a moustache that usually mean the man was up to something.

Percival frowned, whatever it was, if Mr Goode was planning to out maneuver him or manoeuvre against him, he might benefit from keeping his potential enemy close.

“Alright, Mr Goode. Lead the way,” he replied, though half his mind was still stuck on flower arrangements and their meanings.

*****

Credence had watched helplessly as the young woman hobbled her way into his- Percival’s home. He had half the mind to call Percival when the young lady cried out in what Credence thought as dramatic. It was probably unkind of him to think so but it didn’t help that the older woman was rolling her eyes as the younger one leaned all of her weight on her. She had hobbled to the sofa and sat herself down demanding ice which Credence and her older companion put together for her in a towel. 

“So, I’m Phoebe Graves, but my family calls me Fifi and since you’re family too,” she said as she held the towel to her pink toes, her tears all but gone now leaving a slightly manic look about her as dried mascara streaked down her face from her too large eyes. 

Credence leaned as far away as the armrest of the sofa would allow him to go. He stared from her to the older woman in the arm chair by the fireplace and back to the young woman who had leaned forward to attempt to close the distance between them. She was an omega, Credence knew he needn’t worry but he felt as if she was challenging him and it made him want to simultaneously shrink away and lash out. The latter would be unacceptable, so the former it was.

“Stop it, Fifi. He isn’t one for your games, doubt he even understands the point of them,” the older woman said sternly as she stirred a cup of coffee she had made herself. In the few minutes she had been in the house, proved to Credence that she had been here before. She knew where everything was and moved with a confidence within it that made Credence feel small and irrationally irritated. 

“I’m Patricia Graves. We’re Percival’s sisters, has he told you about us?” she asked kindly with a warm enough smile. 

Credence blinked, had Percival told him? Maybe he did but Credence had forgot. Was he expected to remember? Would he be upset if he didn’t remember? Oh god, what if Percival had told him that his sisters were coming and he had all but forgot, though he would swear himself blue in the face that Percival hadn’t told him such a thing!

“Of course Percival hasn’t mentioned us, he was probably busy screwing this one silly to remember anything,” the one called Fifi remarked as she massaged her foot. She looked up and smiled as she said, “I can see why, you look very pretty. Percival always did have good taste.”

"Tush, Fifi! Watch your mouth."

Panic threatening to set in, Credence fell back on the one thing he knew by heart which was good manners. It usually worked when faced with mobs that his mother had agitated like a nest of kicked hornets. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming,” he said softly. He was probably hunching into himself again. Their scents were mingling with his and Percival's, driving away the sense of home and safety that the apparent held.

“Don’t be, even I didn’t know that we were coming,” Patricia said, throwing her sister a look. She carried herself like an alpha but she didn’t scent like one, beta maybe. “What should we call you?” she asked.

“Credence,” he replied, softer still. ‘Barebones’ was left stuck in his throat. If one was denounced by his own mother did one still have rights to bear the name? 

“Credence,” Fifi said like she was savouring an unfamiliar delicacy. Then she smiled and declared, “Credence, you and I are going shopping!”

Credence opened his mouth to protest. Percival had left him a frighteningly large wad of money with a simple, ‘For anything you need,” which rubbed Credence all kinds of wrong. He had protested until the alpha promised he wouldn’t make a habit out of it and Credence was determined not to use any of it.

He tried, “I-I don’t think… I mean, maybe it’s better if --”

“Don’t fight me, I always get my way,” Fifi said as she wiggled her foot back into her shoe. Across from her, the older sister shook her head and was looking apologetic again. “This shoe is stained and no good now, and I want to get to know who could unfreeze that icy heart of my brother’s. You’ll just have to come with me.”


	4. Chapter 4

“In circumstance, I feel that a good marriage is an equal one. Equal of two families of good breeding, of equal opportunities and equal standing,” the grey moustache spoke as Percival gritted his teeth and fought to maintain a face of neutrality. 

He was fuming, he had all but walked into the trap. He should have known, Miss Goode had just debuted so to speak into the bonding market and Mr Goode had been eager to see her bonded before she became “too old” to be a desirable omega. 

Not two minutes they had walked out of their building when Miss Goode had so conveniently been spotted by her father buying books in a nearby store. She came out with ‘The Story of Philosophy’ and ‘The Sun Also Rises’ which he assumed were meant to impress. He wondered if they were something she chose herself or was told to choose. 

She was pretty, soft auburn hair and green eyes, and she was young. Once Percival would have said that she was too young, but that would be supremely hypocritical of him now that he was so heavily enamored by Credence. She appeared to be playing the part of the dutiful daughter and for her sake, Percival refrained from raining hell on Mr Goode like he did to so many others who had tried to weasel him into matrimony. 

People used to throw their omegas and themselves at him ever so often, steely personality be damned. But Percival’s guard was down and he had acted like he was already bonded to Credence, assuming others would notice his attachment. He used to pride himself on seeing a bonding proposal from a mile away and having the foresight to sidestep it so completely that both parties emerged unscathed. He wondered if it were the imprintment on Credence or the aftermath of experiencing a rut long repressed that had dulled him so.

Percival almost thought that his mind might be suffering from an unusual post rut withdrawal symptom because somewhere over Miss Goode’s shoulder, he saw Credence walking down the street, head bowed in the usual way he tried to be unobtrusive. He appeared to have gone shopping if the bags in his hands and the new suit were of any indication. 

Though Percival was a little remorseful to see the omega out of his dress shirt and slacks, he had to admire the new one he was in. He had only ever saw Credence in worn out, ill-fitted suits that made him look like he worked at a funeral home. 

The suit, coat, vest and pants were teal, paired with a white dress shirt and checkered ivory grey tie. It made him look even younger and fresh like a spring flower, and Percival was sorely feeling his age. He briefly wondered who chose it for him and what had got him to go outside because that morning, Credence had not the least bit of desire to leave the apartment.

Credence must have felt his gaze on him. The omega lifted his eyes from his new shiny brown shoes and met Percival’s. The smile the flitted across his face made Percival’s heart swell and then seize. Following him were two familiar figures, one of them trailing being to look into shop windows. Yet another thing his dulled mind should have calculated. 

“Percival,” Credence said in greeting as he made his way up to their little table outside the expensive cafe without the slightest hesitation when a place like this would have ordinarily given him pause. Perhaps like Percival himself, his world too had narrowed down to just the two of them.

“Credence,” Percival replied, rising in his seat. He wanted to introduce him or ask why were his sisters were here but instead all sense of appropriateness and well-honed self control were thrown to the wind.The kiss was chaste but he might as well have bent Credence over the table if Mr Goode’s bristling moustache were anything to go by. 

When they parted, he was surprised that neither of his sisters, particularly the youngest had any witty remark on the matter. Fifi almost seemed to be behaving herself for once. They were both standing behind Credence, smiling at him with something close to endearment in their suspiciously moist eyes. 

Percival would have happily forgotten about his companions at the table if Credence hadn’t said a very shy, “Good afternoon,” followed by a very guilty apology. 

“Ah, yes. Mr and Miss Goode, this is Credence my…,” Percival said but found himself struggling for the right word. Yes, his what? His imprinted? His intended?

“He is going to our brother-in-law,” Patricia supplied smoothly as if everyone had known about Credence since forever. 

“Yes, we’re all looking forward to the wedding,” Fifi added unnecessarily. 

Percival watched as Miss Goode’s face turned scarlet, her green eyes round. She swallowed and looked away. The poor girl. It was probably her first foray into the complex world of courting and she had failed even before she had begun. 

Mr Goode stood up so fast and hard that he almost overturned the table. He looked ready to slap Percival with his glove for offending his daughter’s honor. If that came to be, Percival would have to duel him or whoever he had chosen and it would make matters dangerously complicated for all parties involved.

“Mr Goode, please,” Credence said, he had slotted himself between the two alphas and tilt his head down, neck to the side in a placating submission. His alpha instincts instantly roared and he would done something deeply regrettable if Credence hadn’t been holding his wrist. 

“We are so very sorry,” he added in practiced, almost automated manner. It struck Percival that Credence must have submitted himself like this often, perhaps to alphas who he would have been most effective against. He would not be surprised if his mother encouraged him to use that to appease people she had riled up too much. Never again thought Percival.

It seemed to work. Mr Goode grudgingly dragged himself and his daughter away. They watch them till they crossed the street as the tension bled from the atmosphere around them. 

“Credence,” Percival said gently, his omega turned to look at him seemingly unaffected by the incident when he should be. His lack of a reaction made Percival feel slightly ill. “Credence, I admire what you did and I appreciate it but please don’t do it ever again,” Percival implored and was privately relieved his sisters had politely turned their attention elsewhere for once.

Credence’s brows creased together as he asked, “Why?”

He sounded so innocent that Percival had to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Because you shouldn’t have to, you don’t need to. No one should make you feel like you’re forced to submit,” he said.

“But… I wanted to and it worked. I didn’t want you to fight,” Credence replied still confused. He was so used to submitting when threatened that it was nearly pavlovian. It spoke of a level of abuse and misuse of his omega nature that made Percival want to pay Mary Lou a private visit. Some of it must have shown on his face because Credence said quickly, “I’ll try not to do it again.”

He still didn’t understand but Percival nodded and silently prayed for the strength to fight his alpha instincts from going into overdrive the next time his mate submitted to a foreign alpha. 

“Let's grab a table!” Fifi announced with a cheer that made Percival glare at her but at Credence enthusiastic grin, he decided not to press the matter even if it was going to linger in the back of his mind for the rest of the day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments! i may have been a bit neglectful in replying each but i am really very very grateful. Enjoy this chapter!!

Credence laid belly down on the olive coloured chaise in living room, his face pillowed on its armrest. He was exhausted, in all his life Credence would have never imagined that a shopping trip would be so tiring. Nothing could have prepared him for it, not even the he many blocks he had to walk during winter time with his fingers turning stiff in his too thin gloves as he handed pieces of paper to passers-by. 

Somewhere behind him, Fifi’s voice could be heard floating through room. It came out in urgent tones, high notes and quick staccatos but Credence didn’t have the strength in him to make out the words. After lunch with Percival, he couldn’t help but feel on edge. His nerves felt as raw his his feet did in the new shoes Fifi had insisted he break in.

“I say,” the girl cried as she smacked Credence across his back with her purse. It wasn’t very hard but it was sharp enough for Credence to jump up in his seat. “Have you been listening to anything that I’ve just said?!” she cried, her hands at her hips like a cross child. 

“No, sorry,” Credence replied, pressing the heel of his palm to his eye. 

“We were just saying,” Patricia said as she handed Credence a much needed cup of tea, “That you’d better be getting yourself prepared.”

“Yes, they expect a war,” the younger woman added, she threw herself down in an armchair dramatically and Credence wondered just how serious she was about it but the older sister looked very serious indeed.

“A war?” Credence echoed after the young omega woman numbly. The off kilter feeling from this morning returned in full force, it made his mouth go a little dry and yet he couldn’t bring himself to move the tea to his lips.

“With society,” Patricia answered, helpfully putting sugar and milk into his cup. She gently tipped his hand with the cup upwards, urging him to drink.

“Precisely!” Fifi declared, moving her whole body again as she turned in her seat, swinging her legs to the side. It seemed that the omega woman always spoke with her whole form.

“By now anyone who is anyone would have heard of you and Percy via our good friend Mr Goode,” the beta woman explained, so unlike her sister, her movements were minute and precises. She sat staring in her seat, hands clpps on her lap in a way that spoke of great tension.

““They’re like hyenas, when they see a weakness they will tear at it. To them, you are like a wound in Percival’s side,” Fifi added, now leaning forward, literally at the edge of her seat. 

Credence looked down at his cup, the milk still swirling in the amber coloured liquid, swirling round and round. He watch it till it dissipated and there was nothing but lovely brown and wondered if he would dissolve away in such a manner. 

“Credence,” Patricia said, forcing Credence to look up from his cup. “It will be alright. It will be terrible but then it will be alright,” she said as she pat his knee encouragingly. Credence didn’t feel all that encouraged.

The sisters talked for a little while more. Fifi talked strategy like it was a game of chess that she could win and Credence and Percival were pieces she moved about the board. While Patricia was more keen on arranging sessions where she could tutor Credence on decorum and social etiquette. At some point, they were saying goodbye to him, Fifi being dragged away while protesting loudly. 

Left alone to his own devices, Credence pulled his new shoes off his feet. His kept his socks on but he had a feeling that they were red and sore under there. Beauty is pain, Fifi had told him. He wasn’t sure if it was worth it and he was fairly certain that Percival would agree with him. 

Percival was a perfect alpha but beyond the rooms of the apartment and the incident with Mr Goode was anything to go by, he couldn’t see how they’d match outside. Even if they ignored society and everyone else, where did that leave Credence?

He couldn’t imagine himself living the life of a “kept” omega as the gossip columns would put it. He could not possibly sit in the apartment day after day, prettying himself only to wait for Percival to come back with the occasional bout of shopping. He had minimal education at best, any job he was fit for would be below Percival's station. He was neither witty nor sociable or from good standing.

Credence looked up at his reflection in the windows, his child like hair, awkward limbs and too pale skin. Even in expensive clothes, he still looked uncomfortable like a boy trying to play the part of a grown up. He would never be refined like the way Fifi, Patricia and Percival needed him to be. He was self aware enough to be certain that no amount of tutoring could change him on the inside. 

The sun was setting on him outside, the light through the curtains painted the room in a splendid golden hue. Credence placed his cup down gently on the coffee table and rose from the chaise. He walked to the bathroom where his cloths were well dried by now. He took them and lay them out on the bed, then he took off his nice new suit and folded it beside his old one. 

Putting on his old suit was a bit of a struggle,.Credence wasn’t sure if it had shrunk or if it had always fitted him this badly. Lastly, he put on his old black shoes that he had fought Fifi for when she wanted to throw them away at the shop. 

He probably should wait to tell Percival in person that he couldn’t be with him. He should tell the alpha that he had never known much happiness in his life, that he thought he knew it but Percival had came into his life and smashed everything that he had ever known to bits. Despite that, he could not see a future where Credence would not be a disappointment to Percival. 

He did not wait to tell him to his face because Credence wasn’t built to be brave. He was weak and that was what made him lose his pills and got him into the circumstances as it were in the first place. He couldn’t face Percival, but he could put it down in words. He left a letter on the side of the bed that he had been sleeping in for the past few days. It was the least he could do before leaving.


	6. Chapter 6

“What did you say to him?” Percival asked, voice low and brutal. He was angry, scared and confused but mostly scared. He wanted to tear and hurt, and he had already broken several of his sister’s vases. 

“It’s not my fault that you’re an idiot who didn’t tell him that you imprinted on him!” Fifi shouted, throwing a heavy book at his head. Most sane people would have been shaking in their shoes with the amount of hormones Percival was pumping into the air, but not Fifi. Percival dodged the book just in time, picked it off the floor and threw it right back at her. 

“I didn’t want to make him feel obligated, you cunt!” he cursed as the book soared widely to the left, missing Fifi by a mile. It smacked into the bookcase behind her, bits of paper bursting out. She laughed maniacally not unlike that way she did the one time he caught her high on a certain illegal substance. 

“You're afraid he’d feel obliged and he’s afraid you’d feel obliged, you two are a pair of idiots!” she said, still laughing madly as she twirled around the room in her long fur trimmed nightgown. Any onlooker would think that it was she who was having the nervous break down. 

“I hate you,” Percival said through gritted teeth, but most of the fight had gone out of him.

“The feeling’s mutual, darling brother,” his sister replied, she stopped spinning like one of those ballerina figurines on those music boxes and made her way to the bar. The omega girl poured two generous tumblers of amber liquor, spilling some as he moved to hand a glass to Percival.

“You’re not on anything are you?” Percival asked as he eyed her suspiciously. 

“Nope, but I was _on_ someone before you burst in,” she said as she flopped onto the sofa. “Thought you were mother at first, so I sent him out the balcony,” she explained as she watched Percival not so subtly began flicking open the little containers by table. 

“Hmm,” Percival said, suddenly feeling very old and very tired. The adrenaline was slowly ebbing out of him, leaving him feeling heavy-limbed and weak-kneed. 

“These days, the only kick I get are from smokes and liquor,” she said as she lit a cigarette up and brought it to her lips. 

“Good for you,” he replied as he let himself collapse onto the sofa beside his sister, carelessly spilling drops of whiskey on her rug. He doubt that she’d mind, there were probably worst stains on that thing. “How did that happen?” he asked, gesturing to a very much faded bald spot at the corner of the rug. 

“Hmm?” Fifi said, turning her head to look at the direction her brother’s hand was referring to. “Oh, it was blood. There’s a long story to that, you know. Just last Christmas - NOW WAIT A MINUTE!” the omega girl cried, sitting up right so fast that she send the contents of her drink splashing all over the cushions with some ending on Percival and herself. 

“Percival Augustus Graves! You don’t get to pull that trick with me!” she exclaimed, wide eyed and filled with indignant fury. “You are going to talk about this and we - We are going find him!” his sister added, her chest heaving up and down in her fur trimmed nightgown which gave her the look for a angry ally cat. 

It took Percival by complete surprise, so much so that he didn’t even bother to guard his expression as he usually would. He let it bleed across his face, his eyebrows rose and body leaned back just a fraction in response. 

“Well,” Fifi said after a moment, “I happen to like Credence. I think that he suits you well.”

“Your support is duly noted,” Percival replied before he threw back the whole tumbler of whiskey, it burnt his throat just the way he needed it to. “Still doesn’t change that I don’t know where to start… I’ve tried the police. Those unhelpful bastard,” he groused as he made his way to the bar, returning to their seat with the with bottle of golden amber liquid.

He had to pour himself another to stop from going into another fit of rage just recalling the ordeal at the police station. Apparently since Credence was not a child nor bonded to him, there was nothing they could do about it, but they “promised” to “keep an eye out”. That was something Percival highly doubted if their bored faces were anything to go by. They probably thought him as some poor infatuated alpha spurned by an omega but was too much of a fool to know it yet. Those fuckers.

“Let go of the glass,” Fifi said, her cool cold voice cutting through his fog of anger. Percival willed his hand to release the innocent tumbler from his death grip and was greeted by a bored look from his sister, smoke emanating from her in lazy swirls.

“Sorry,” Percival said, he was truly embarrassed at his lack of control. He was better than this.

“Hmm,” Fifi said with a twist of her lips, “Start with the mother.”

Percival turned to her and gave her an incredulous look, “You can’t be serious. That woman- I’ve seen lizards with better mothering instincts.”

“Pardon me for trying to come up with something,” she replied with a glare. Percival glared right back because she hadn’t met Mary Lou Barebones, she hadn’t seen the effects she had left on Credence’s mind and body.

Fifi was first to break the staring contest with a dramatic sigh as she snubbed out her cigarette on a little dish by the table that might have once been a saucer. Percival ran a hand through his hair, he must look perfectly disheveled by now.

“You’re right. It’s a start,” Percival replied, he could already envision the remarks that Mary Lou was going to throw into his face but fuck, he would take every insult if it meant getting the tiniest of clues for where Credence might have gone.

“And I’ll try to figure something else out with Patricia tomorrow,” Fifi said and in a very uncharacteristic fashion, threw her arms around Percival and wrapped him in a hug that was almost affectionate if her arms hadn’t been as stiff as if they were protesting the act of an embrace. 

“We’ll find him, Percival,” she said as Percival patted her back awkwardly with one hand, entirely grateful that that her face was buried in his shoulder unable to see just how hapless he felt.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short update! sorry guys!

Credence looked up at the night sky as he rubbed his chilly fingers, it was dark and moonless with but a few scattering of stars in sight. 

A small bug buzzed over his head, Credence followed it with his eyes. He watched it join a small swarm of surrounding a street light, occasionally banging against the lamp’s glass. Credence looked away, it made him oddly depressed that they would all be dead by morning, exhausted from reaching the unattainable.

He blew against his fingers as he turned his attention to the drab looking door of a small church. He knew in his mind that his best chance lay in begging for forgiveness and accepting what ever verbal and physical punishments that were to be dealt out by his mother. His heart, however… His heart beat hard and fast at the very idea, he felt quite sick at the thought that he would be forced to renounce everything that he had felt for and with Percival as a kind of falsehood and sin. 

He stood at war with himself in the little alley across from his former home for a good whole hour as he weighed the pros and cons of the matter. He could see no future for himself in returning but neither could he see any future for himself in the streets, not one that didn’t end darkly for him. Perhaps it was best for everyone if he just went to the bridge and jumped into the river. 

Suddenly, the window of his bedroom opened. Caught by surprise, Credence stared up at it and found the very blank pale face of Modesty looking down at him. Credence brought a finger to his lips. The young girl was as impassive as ever, she merely blinked. Credence thought that she would simply go quietly away but then her lower lip trembled and her usual glare seemed to be much harder. 

To a stranger she would appear to be as blank as ever but to Credence this was Modesty whose heart was broken, stomped on and betrayed. He had known her since she was soft small thing brought to the church. He held her, kept her full by giving her portions of his meals and kept her away from their mother’s wrath the best that he could. 

“I’m so sorry,” he mouthed to her from under the street light he had stepped out to. Then added hesitantly, “I will come back for you.” 

He wasn’t sure if he could come back for her, he wasn’t even sure if he could survive the night and Modesty didn’t seem to buy it either. She opened her mouth as if to say something but then shut it again, pulling her lips into a thin line as she closed the windows.

That was it then. It became apparent that Credence could never have made himself step back into that place. A small voice whispered harshly at the back of his mind that he might have to get to his knees in alleyways like this to get by. Credence angrily squashed the voice down, he would find another way.


	8. Chapter 8

New York’s night time was something different altogether once one stepped away from the street lamps of the city centre, away from the music and lights of the bars and joints, into the lonelier quieter streets of the poor and the homeless. 

For all of Mary Lou’s faults, the fact she had taken him in almost immediately after his mother’s death and enforced a strict schedule. Back by sun down because sin crept out in the darkness of the night and preyed on the weak minded.

Credence had walked everywhere most of his life, he had walked most of the neighborhood blocks in his mother’s never ending quest to warn people off omegas and alphas. Over time he had built himself a fairly competent map in his mind, the layout of every street and landmark. Though things looked a great deal different without daylight.

Any moving shadow to be treated with suspect and every sound drove Credence’s nerves into overdrive. There was not an automobile about for the past few blocks he had walked, and no pedestrians to speak of. It terrified him to the core when the sound of an engine humming grew louder, the lights casting long shadows.

Credence refused to look back, instead he widen his stride and quicken his pace. His arms wrapped tightly around himself as he took to a jog down the sidewalk. The engine behind him growing louder and strong, Credence swore that he could almost feel the warmth from the lights that lit up his back.

“C'mon in,” ordered a male voice through a small slit of a rolled down window as the car, an impressive black slick machine keeping pace beside him.

Credence ignored it and walked even faster. The vehicle, much to his annoyance and horror, continued to follow him. He was beginning to wonder how long he was able to keep this up and was considering running into the almost pitch black darkness of the park.

“I pay well,” the voice said, it was infuriatingly calm and steady. It was a voice used to getting what it wanted and all too familiar to Credence. It struck a nerve in him, like a physical slap. 

He stopped abruptly in his steps and the car slowed till the passenger door was neatly poised by his side. Credence wasn’t sure if it was the slight banging at his temples or the lack of food that made him rash enough to glare through the small slit of the car window as he said, “No.”

The steel in his own voice surprised even himself. He very quickly decided that it was wise that he beat a hasty retreat now while he was still ahead of whatever was occurring at the moment. Credence turned away and walked down the road as fast as his tired legs would carry him. He heard the door of the car clicking open and he hurried faster still. 

“It’s warm where I’m going,” the voice said, it sounded almost amused now and it made Credence face burn with something that he never knew till now, disdain. It filled him the the sudden urge to hit the man.

“I’D RATHER DIE OF COLD!” he shouted without looking back, but even as he said it he shivered. 

A loud laugh sounded like it was slightly unhinged and filled with liquor erupted from behind Credence. “God, you’re such a freak! Too bad cause I could use a bit of freak right now!”

Credence shuddered as he dashed into the park as fast as he could. Running till he couldn’t hear the car anymore or even see the road from whence he came. He walked backwards for a bit, just to make sure that the dangerous stranger hadn’t ran after him, eyes trained on the direction where the traffic would be.

Suddenly, something furry and of quite substantial size whizzed right past the side of his face. Credence stared wide eyed as a brownish mass of fur with unusually long arms swung from a lamppost to branch right before his very eyes. It felt surreal, like he shouldn’t be seeing it because this didn’t belong in what was considered the normal reality of life.

Seconds later a solid body banged straight into his back causing both of them to topple over themselves. Credence let out a croak, not even able to scream properly as he struggled to untangle himself from the mess of limbs. He was beside himself in fear, his chest felt tight and he could barely think. 

The figure pulled itself from him and straightened into the form of a man in a blue coat and brown vest. He had a disheveled look about him and a mop of brown hair that accentuated his look of disarray. The man looked up and about for a few moments before looking down at Credence.

“It’s alright, deep breaths now. In through your nose out through your mouth,” he said as he lifted both his hands up in the air and stepped back slowly as if he was placating a wounded beast. It was the last thing Credence saw before the blackness at the edge of his vision swallowed the man in whole.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful comments! We are back to Percuval's POV now ;)

Percival was barely himself. No one had call him out on it yet but he knew it was true. His staff barely ever entered his office anymore and anytime he walked through their floor, the silence was palpable, their eyes cast down at the work on their desk.

He almost never left his desk unless it was for a meeting that was forced down his throat. He ate at the office, slept at the office, spoke to no one unless spoken to and President Picquery had never been happier with the results his department had produced. The best they have ever been, she had said to him with a smile that was almost friendly.

He had nodded and thanked her, and watched as her brows drew together in a frown. They were never friends and Percival couldn’t be more thankful for that. The olive skinned alpha said nothing of it but she pursed her lips into a thin line of displeasure or was perhaps disapproval, Percival didn’t stay to find out. 

He returned to his desk to find a leaflet sitting neatly on top of his paper work, beside a cup of warm cocoa and a bagel sandwich. He looked out of the glass window on his door, several heads swiveled away at whiplash speed. Cautiously, as if picking up a hissing cobra, Percival took the leaflet in hand.

_Imprinting wears off in the case of death of the imprinted or in prolonged absences. Until then medication is required for the imprintee._

The alpha scoffed. Then with gritted teeth, he crumpled and tossed the paper into his wastepaper basket. It rattled violently as it entered. He glared hard at the meal on his desk and contemplated throwing that away too, out of seer spite. A knock on his door added to his irritation. He was not prepared for any pretense of civility today.

“Mr Graves, you shouldn't throw that out,” a young blond woman said through the small gap she was holding open at the door.

He had picked the younger Goldstine sister as his secretary because she, like her sister, had a good head on her shoulders and he trusted her as much as he trusted Tina. He was unusually disappointed and angered that she would attempt to inveigle him. She had never seemed inclined to do so in the past despite her gender. That was one of the reasons why Percival held her in esteem. 

“Please, Mr Graves,” she continued as she entered and closed the door behind her. Percival was about to launch some cutting words a her when she rolled her eyes. “Mr Graves, I respect you as much as an employee could a boss. But really, you’re not everybody's type and you're most certainly not my type,” she said flatly.

Percival suddenly felt his face flame. He cleared his throat and pulled himself to full height, painfully aware that it made him look like he was compensating for something. 

“I didn't think I was,” he replied as he placed his hands in the pockets of his pants, a posturing habit. The young omega looked at his hands then back to his face, her slightly raised brows said that she didn't believe live him. “So you left me lunch?” he asked, sparing a brief glance out of his office window and spied two dozen eyes watching the proceedings keenly.

“Yes, it’s from this new baker I met, he makes the most glorious stuff,” she said with a sudden dreamy eyes. Percival raised a curious brow and a wave of whispers pressed through the thin glass door of his office. 

“And the leaflet?” the alpha pressed on, ignoring the whispers the came through his door like a swarm of particularly muffled bees. 

“Don't know… a man, all butler like, came by and told me to put it there. He said that you would know if I didn't,” the younger Goldstein explained, her blue grey eyes looking worried.

“Ah, so Mother knows then. Or course she does,” Percival said bitterly. He wouldn't even be surprised if she was the reason he couldn't find Credence. Credence, it had been nine days, eleven hours and 16 minutes since…

“She's probably worried,” his secretary said gently. It must be nice to think the best of people more often than not, to see the world to rose tinted glasses. When Percival didn't reply she added, “Tina and I are really worried too. Why don’t you let us help?”

“You can't help me.” He was in a black hole that numbed his life and made him feel like the walking dead. He was cursed with dreams of dark hair and sad eyes, eyes that he had never seen to be truly happy and would now never know if he could make them so. 

The young omega bit her lip, her eyes oddly moist. As she reached for the door she paused and looked over her shoulder . “You should start talking to some of us, Mr Graves. We might surprise you,” she said before opening the door and stepping outside.

Percival squeeze his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose as he swallowed around the lump in his throat. Outside, his floor exploded in a commotion, swarming around his secretary. It was a good thing that the girl was a Goldstein who were tougher than they looked because Percival could let the tears run from his eyes while everyone else was busy with her.


	10. Chapter 10

“Creedence,” a voice said his name like a benediction as warm brown eyes stared into his. Sun beams broke the line curtains, casting little spots of gold around the room and on their bed. Credence parted his lips to say something but his breath caught in his throat as this beautiful man smiled patiently back at him like they had all the time in the world. 

The wetness at the corner of his eyes threatened to spill his cheeks. It took everything in himself to hold it back because he fear that if he started he would never stop. He would shake uncontrollably as the sobs wracked through him and he would be no good to anyone in that state. 

Credence closed his eyes and willed everything away, he was good at that. Pushing sad things down and packing them up in neat little boxes that would sit forever he tried desperately not to look at them. 

He opened his eyes to a brown wooden ceiling, his back protesting as he sat up from the sofa. He had to take a look around before he set his feet down on the floor. Ever since he almost squashed a small endangered animal under his feet, Credence was ever vigilant. He felt deeply guilty about it and still could scarcely believe that he was allowed to live and assist with the animals.

There was a loud thump, followed by a yelp and the sound of several paws scraping on wood from somewhere at the top of the stairs. Credence twisted in his seat to find his host, a messy haired young man wrestling with a large sloth, a small snake coiled tightly around his arm and a baby anteater in his other. That in itself wasn’t unusual, what was unusual was that his companion was wearing his best robin blue coat.

“Good morning, Credence,” he greeted in an accent that never failed to make Credence feel oddly unpolished. 

“Good morning, Newt,” he replied as he rose to help pluck the baby anteater from Newt's arm before it started drawing blood with it’s tiny sharp claws.

He watched quietly as Newt uncoiled the snake and sat down the little creature in a terrarium on the kitchen counter as the sloth started to crawl down from the his back. Credence was struck with a strange sense of detachment like he was observing a scene that he wasn’t a part off, floating...

“-and so we- Credence did you have a bad dream again?” his companion asked with a very worried look upon his face. 

Oh, dear, Credence thought. He was disconnecting again. He probably had missed out some very important chunk of information that Newt had been telling him. His face flushed a deep scarlet as he burnt with shame. This kind man rescued him after the incident at the park, let him work as his assistant, allowed him to live in his home and Credence couldn’t even do his job properly. He wished Newt would just hit him like Mary Lou instead of looking at him with such gentle eyes of concern. 

“I’m so very sorry, Mr Scamander,” he whispered, eyes downcast.The instinctive urge to apologise, to beg for forgiveness, to invite punishment if necessary, made his whole body tremble, knowing that his behaviour would only add to Newt’s alarm. Again.

Newt looked at him searchingly, the way he sometimes studied his animals. After a long minute he looked away and said, “A very important person is coming to the zoo today. Apparently we all have to dress up to meet him or else our dear old director is going to be very disappointed in us.” 

Newt tend to do that, look away when he talked. Credence used to think it was because he didn’t know him, but he later learnt that Newt was that way with everyone else. He had a strong feeling that Newt was quoting the dear old director when he spoke. The old gentleman, bless his soul, always seemed to be at a lost of how to speak to Newt and turned to Credence to relay his communication.

Credence put the kettle on to boil before and retreated upstairs to the tiny space which two of his suits hung from. These were the two he had bought with the money given to him from his work at the zoo and he was particularly proud of them despite them being from a charity store. He reached for the less battered of the two.

When he came down, Newt placed a mug of tea by his toast. That was the nice thing about living with Newt. The man never asked many questions and never told him off because of his clothes. Sometimes, Credence wished he was one of those omegas that could love other omegas and then he could love Newt. Maybe that would make it feel less like a part of his soul had been torn away. 

Credence was painfully aware that it could be a lot worse than melancholic dreams and a hole in his heart. For now he tried to be content with a roof over his head, animals he adored and a friend he could count on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankee for all the kudos and comments. Some of you are really sharp at picking out details which is awesome! Next update might take a while but I'll do my best to post as usual.


	11. Chapter 11

The air felt cold and dry, everything was white or grey and steel. The painfully bright lights made Percival look pale and deathlike, almost befitting his surrounding as he made his way through a pair of steel doors. 

His feet carried him to the edge of a steel table, his hands felt clammy as he balled them into fist. A shaky breath escaped his lungs before he nodded to the small man in a white coat. The man raised his hands and pulled off the sheet covering the body beneath it. Dark hair, pale skin, the right height but not his Credence. 

Percival could have wept in relief and had so before but it was his seventh time down to the morgue in the past three weeks. He had cried himself dry and searched the streets to exhaustion. He walked in an endless purgatory and found no reprieve, no, he refused reprieve because reprieve would mean moving on and giving up. Percival was stubborn to a fault, perhaps soon it would be his undoing. 

“Thank you, Charlie,” he said to the examiner, the small man nodded in return. The medical examiner was an old friend of the family and was glad to alert Percival each time an unknown body matching Credence’s description appeared - for a small fee, of course. 

“It’s a good thing it ain’t him, eh?” Charlie replied. For a man who worked with dead people, Charlie was oddly optimistic and sunny in his disposition. 

Percival opened his mouth to reply, then closed it and simply nodded back with a small smile that must look like something crooked and broken. Some selfish part of him rather had his omega dead than not know where he was. The thought shook him to the core, stories of alphas killing omegas that tried to leave them flashed before his eyes. Once he could confidently say that he was above such barbaric acts but lately he was forced to look at the darkness of the alpha mind and he found it to be complex and almost pitiful in nature. 

Shaken by the thoughts that now haunted him even in his waking hours, Percival hurried out of the room and out of the building. The chilly November air was a welcomed distraction. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat and begin to make his way down the street back to his office, maybe he might even manage to grab a small morsel of lunch. He was not several feet down the street when the swift sound of heels came clicking up from behind him.

“Mr Graves! What are you doing here?” cried Miss Goldsteinm, her hand shooting out to grip his arm hard enough to nearly off balance him.

“Excuse me, Miss Goldstein,” Percival replied, openly glaring at the older Goldstein sister. He was on his lunch break, if he wanted to visit dead people, he damn well could.

Tina Goldstein hesitated but did not back down from his cold reception. “She’s not dead is she?” she said in mild horror, her eyes wide and brows drawn together.

“She?” Percival asked, confusion was the only thing holding him back from shaking her arm off. Tina Goldstine could sometimes be too nosy for her own good.

“Your omega, Queenie told me,” she replied, still holding his arm like he might up and disappear at a moment’s notice. 

“No, he isn’t,” Percival said, voice hard and cold. Of course, Queenie Goldstein would not keep her employer’s predicament to herself. He felt oddly betrayed by the younger Goldstein sister, to think that he had trusted her in confidence. 

“Then-” Tina Goldstein began but was sharply cut short.

“I have to be realistic and be prepared for the fact that he might be regardless of what my bond tells me,” Percival explained, words ejected from him in a monotonous manner like he was reading off a script.

“Percival…” she said, and the dreaded look of pity began to pool in her eyes. Percival couldn’t bear it, not from her or anyone.

“Miss Goldstein, mind your own goddamn business,” he snapped. He knew she meant well and his behaviour was harsh, almost cruel but he found facade of civility to be a feeble thing as of late.

Tina Goldstein’s eyes widened, instead of letting go she gripped his arm ever harder. “Forgive me Director Graves for giving a damn, I thought that after being friends for so long that I should care!” she shot back at him, not giving an ounce of ground as she pull her small frame firmer and taller.

Percival stared back at her outburst with wide eyes, there was a strained pause before the older Goldstein let her hand drop heavily from his arm. A thousand unspoken words seemed to hang in the air between them.

“What’s his name?” Tina asked, never lost of ways to break uncomfortable silences. She held his gaze with a grim set to her lips.

Percival took a moment, he hadn’t told anyone of Credence name other than his sisters and even so he hadn’t technically “told” them. It was more of them forcing their way into his life.

“Credence, Credence Barebones,” he said as he looked away. He couldn’t meet her eyes/ He wasn’t sure if it was because of her sex and he was unwilling to look weaker to another alpha or was it his fear of seeing her so openly honest. 

“Credence…” she repeated like the name now too meant something to her. She tried to catch his eye, as if to say something but Percival couldn’t stand a moment longer of their exchange. He felt suddenly ashamed - their relationship to him had always been friendly with civil professionalism, but he would never, could never bring himself to rely on her or anyone else for anything other than work. And he now realised how deeply he had shuttered himself away - how abject the faults of his character were.

“Good day, Miss Goldstein,” he as he turned away from her. He had a long walk back to his office.


	12. Chapter 12

Credence hated inspections but he found solace in knowing that Newt hated it even more. The higher ups called it “showcasing”, really it was a disruption of work and both he and Newt were expected to do a lot of boot-licking when very important people were being toured into their work space. 

The zoo director had more or less pleaded Newt to act at least normal for the duration of this showcase. Apparently the Shaws were important investors that they should be drawing in and not driving away with Newt’s left field ideas of zoology.

“All this... is nice I guess,” an old gruff voice said uncertainly from somewhere around the cage of _Cercopithecus kandti_. The golden amber fur creatures jumped around, to get away or towards the source of the voice was anyone’s guess. 

Credence tried to make himself as small and insignificant as possible as he bent over the bird feeder he was mending. The work table was tucked in the corner of the room and with some luck they might miss him.

“So what is this place exactly, Director?” the voice continued Credence peeked out of his corner slowly. The man was well into old age but he carried himself with an air that commanded respect and moved better than all the wrinkles on his face implied. Behind him followed a younger man who seemed to be appraising the venue as if he owned it. 

“It’s… er… Mr Scamander uses it for all intents and purposes, Mr Shaw,” their director replied as his thin and feeble hands gestured around. 

The old man sighed, “That’s not good enough. I’m a businessman. If I'm going to pour my money into a cause, I wanna know what's it all about, what are you doing exactly and how is it beneficial. None of what you’re showing means anything to me.”

Credence placed down the small pliers he had been working with on the feeder and frowned.

“I have enough money to throw at a charity case but at the very least, make us look good!” the old Mr Shaw said in a surprisingly strong voice. “Give us something we put in the papers, something that will make the public give a damn!"”

Their director swung around with frantically searching eyes. “You boy!” he said when he spotted Credence’s head peeking from around the column. “Where is Scamander?”

Scamander, Newt, right. Newt was out chasing down a rogue platypus who had absconded with this morning’s toast and was last spotted in the otter tank. But he couldn’t very well tell the director that.

“He’s out, sir,” Credence said meekly. 

“What?!” the director said, horrified. The thin beta began to march up to the table, he looked like he was on the verge of foaming at the mouth.

“That’s alright, Director,” the younger man said. Credence felt his spine stiffen, there was something about the voice that sounded uncomfortably familiar. “Maybe the young man can explain things to us.”

Credence blinked, then took several deep breaths. He could do this. He had to do it for Newt and make him proud. Stiffly, he slid out of his chair and made his way to the open space where the three men were standing.  
“This is?” the old man asked, clearly unimpressed as he tapped his foot impatiently. 

“This is Mr Barebones, Mr Scamander’s hand picked assistant,” the director explained, clearly quiet proud of himself for not tripping over his own words.

“Father, if that's the case. I’m sure Mr Barebones knows his way around the place,” the younger Shaw added, and Credence eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Of course, Senator Shaw,” their director said, before turning and casting a desperate look at Credence. The young omega nodded his head in small measured movements not unlike the way he did when his mother sent him off to hand out pamphlets again out in the cold street of New York.

Credence did his best to explain the good work that Newt had done. He showed them the animals they had rescued and was particularly pleased that Dougal, their giant sloth, decided to be cooperative and allow himself to be carried by the old Mr Shaw. The old man looked almost charmed by the gentle grey creature. 

“Thank you, Mr Barebones. I think I understand what goes on here. We’ll send someone down from the paper one of these days,” the older man said as they approached the end of the tour. He tipped his hat at Credence and made his way to their director who had been standing anxiously by the parrot cage with a hand full of papers.

Credence watched the director bumble about the papers with the older Mr Shaw. He sighed, at least he had covered for Newt sufficiently. Now all they needed was for Niffler to be returned to his tank before anyone noticed that anything was amiss. 

“I hadn’t the chance to see your face properly, or I would have tried harder to get you home with me,” Senator Shaw whispered at the shell of his ear. Cadence's eyes widen, there was a solid heat behind his back and both the director and the older Mr Shaw were walking out of the room. 

“Mr Shaw, please step back,” Credence said, his voice shaking with something he never felt before -  
indignation. He felt more anger than fear and he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t punch the alpha if he didn’t stop whatever he intended to do at once. Surprisingly, the heat at his back disappeared.

Credence turned around cautiously as if he might be attacked anytime soon. The alpha burst into laughter behind him.

“Oh, don’t be so surprised. I prefer willing victims and I always leave their wallets thicker then before they came,” he replied, there was a smugness in his voice as if he had made a very clever joke. Credence simple stared at him blankly.

“Take your money somewhere it’s wanted,” Credence said softly. It was an almost gentle sort of rebellion.

“So you don’t want money,” Shaw said, it sounded like both a question a statement. The alpha tilted his head and looked at him like he was a curiosity that he didn’t quite understood. He straightened up. “Alright, I’ll see you around, Credence,” he said casually before brushing past him, causing Credence to grit his teeth in annoyance.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter guys! Sorry, things are hectic at the moment!

Credence carefully snipped yet another article about Percival from the paper, by now he had a scrap full of them. They were some cutouts from the socialite section but most of them were business. This way he always knew how Percival was and if the business pieces were anything to go by, he was going well and Credence was proud of his alpha.

He placed the newest articles in Newt’s dictionary, pages frayed at the edges set by the paperclipped collection of news clippings. Credence would like to think himself as well school in the matters of Percival’s work from all the articles he had been collecting. In his fantasies, he’d able to carry conversation about Percival’s day without feeling at a lost for words.

There was a flurry of footsteps followed by the dull thump of a suitcase being settled rather carelessly on the floor. Credence looked up from his papers to see a frowning Newt walking towards him. 

The older omega paused at the desk and looked at Credence as if he wanted to say something. Credence for his part felt himself blush under the scrutiny. He tried to push the news clippings under a stack of papers as discreetly as he could manage, which was not discreet at all if the flicker of Newts eyes were anything to go by.

 

“Credence..,” the Newt said as he pulled a stool to sit by the desk. Credence watch the older omega frown and squint at somewhere above his shoulder. He was always like that, never quite meeting Credence’s eyes but then again Credence never fancied looking into people’s eyes either and that worked for him.

The older omega cleared his throat and be tried again. “There are many many creatures in the natural world that bond like we do,” he said.

Credence nodded, Newt tend to burst into spontaneous lectures about one thing or another but the timing of this was strange even for Newt. The researcher usually lectured on the matter at hand, normally pertaining to the case or animal of the day that they were dealing with. Credence could see no reason that this talk would be sprung on him now but he was happy to receive whatever wisdom that Newt was willing to dispense to him.

“Sometimes premature bonds form, it is rare but it does happen… and it’s effects are particularly great on the alphas,” he continued, looking slightly to the side now at the potted plant on their desk.

Credence frowned, he already knew this. Did Newt think that he hadn’t read up on all those materials handed to him?

“What I mean to say is- ” the older omega said but was distracted from finishing his sentence by the screeching of the white macaw that stood on a stand by the door. The two omegas looked up to find a ruddy faced youth gasping as the bird flapped wildly about him.

“Shaw News!” he panted, “Mr Scamander, their reporter is here!” he gasped again, clearly winded.

Newt frowned, “So?”

The poor boy’s eyebrows shot all the way up to his fringe. “So? _So, sir?_ ” he rasped, sounding as if he were on the edge of a panic attack. “The director said to get you to the interview pronto!”

The older omega sighed, then looked over his shoulder apologetically. “I’m sorry, Credence. I promise we will finish this conversation after,” he said before he turned to march out of the door without the district spring in his step.

Left to his own devices, Credence opened up the new business economics book he had borrowed from the library. He drew out a pencil and attempted to apply some of the formulas given, better to understand what they meant. 

“Pretty and smart,” a voice said beside his ear, it shocked Credence so much he almost fell out of his chair. 

Credence glared up at the speaker, it was precisely who he thought it was. The younger Shaw alpha was looming over his shoulder, looking at his book in amusement. Credence leaned away from him as much as possible. He had not heard Shaw enter at all and it unnerved him completely.

“Mr Shaw,” Credence said, gathering himself with a frown, he wondered if he was sent to interview Newt. If so why was he here? No, of course not. He probably came because he knew Newt would be busy with his reporter.

“Henry, please. Mr Shaw is my father,” he replied, when Credence simply glared and said nothing, he chuckled. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. 

Thinking that he was a man who'd pay for sex? Yes and Credence found it to be disgusting as he carefully slid his chair an inch backwards.

“I don’t solicit hookers. People throw himself at me and after we both had out fun, I pay for them to go away,” he explained with the tone one would often use with children.

Credence thought that that was equally despicable and he also failed to see much of difference as the chair another inch back. “You should go, Mr Shaw,” he replied softly but warningly, Credence tone implied that he was not above doing something drastic. 

The alpha blinked, taken aback and Credence thought that he might get a hit for his insolence but the older man merely smirked. “I like you,” he said as he straightened up and turned to head for the door before he paused and looked over his shoulder back at Credence. “I, Henry Shaw Junior am going to court you, Credence Barebones,” he announced before leaving the room, leaving a very stunned and slightly horrified Credence behind.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the late update! I had to deal with moving to a new apartment recently and things at work were a little hectic! To everyone who has been so patient and supportive thank you so much! This will be the final chapter for Part 2 of the series..

There was a rather persistent series of knocks on Percival’s door. He ignored it in favour of brewing himself a cup of coffee. It was Sunday morning. Percival despised Sundays especially how much they dragged on now that Credence was no longer around. He couldn’t remember what he used to do on his days off but currently he hated them with the dull misery of a man much to use to filling him time with work.

The knocking grew louder. “Mr Graves! Percival!” It was Tina Goldstein. Percival drank his coffee mulishly ignoring her. She had no right to bother him on a bloody Sunday. 

After a while, the knocking stopped. Blissful silence. Then a little click was heard before the door swung open and Goldstein burst through which had Percival standing in alarm and nearly spilling his coffee.

“Percival! You’re… alright,” she muttered, embarrassed. Behind her stood her sister looking sheepish and quickly pocketing a set of lockpicks. 

Percival knew that he ought to be feeling something at this, embarrassment at the very least for the way he was so inadequately dressed in nothing but his pajamas bottoms with a robe over that. But he felt nothing. He couldn’t even feel shocked over Queenie Goldstein the lockpicker, as contradictory to her nature as it were.

He simply felt very tired, the restless nights were taking a toll on him. He pinched the bridge of his nose; a slight throbbing began on side of his temple. 

“Miss Goldstein, I really could not care less as to how and why you are here, only when you will be gone,” he said as he numbly made his way to the chair. He paused slightly, it had been months but somehow he could never quite shake himself of the memory of Credence sitting across the table from him. Pale skin stretched over too sharp angles and trembling fingers that touched everything so lightly like he was afraid he might spoil it. 

“Mr Graves!” the younger Goldstein said loudly with a pleading note in her voice.

Percival squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, when he opened them he saw two pairs of eyes staring back at him with something that looked more than simple worry. He looked away and sat himself down in his chair as he took a questionably large gulp from his cup. He barely tasted the coffee, but he needed the bitter burn that scorched through his throat. It was one thing to look yourself in the mirror and not like what you see, it was quite another to see that same reflection in someone else's eyes.

“You need to go,” he said without looking at them. He didn’t think he could stand it.

“B-but, Mr Graves!” Tina stammered out, her voice sounding deeply frustrated. He steadily ignored her, electing instead to stared blankly out of his kitchen window. “But Mr Graves, we know where Credence is!” she said exasperatedly.

Percival blinked, the coffee cup in his hand would have surely crashed down to the kitchen floor if he hadn’t already been resting it on the table. He frowned. 

“I know where he is and I can take you there!” she exclaimed but Percival had one too many false leads before and only dared to muster up so much hope. 

The sisters looked confused as they watched him raise from his seat to enter his bedroom and reemerged looking no more excited than he was a moment ago only better dressed. He looked between the two sisters expectantly, “Well? Lead the way.”

They caught a cab towards the park and for a moment Percival was gripped by the image of Credence having to scavenge through the park to survive, it made him feel slightly ill and deeply depressed. They didn’t stop, thankfully, but that hardly made him feel any better. 

When they finally shuffled out of the cab near the zoo’s entrance, Percival was sure that his frown was now so deep it might be permanently etched into his face. Families made up most of the crowd, milling in little groups or queuing for tickets at the entrance. He was sure the Goldstein sisters would not play so cruel a prank on him but this was so distant a place from anywhere he had expected to find Credence that he had a good mind to voice his doubts sharply.

He barely opened his mouth before he was rudely dragged off towards a gate that read “STAFF ONLY”. Tina pushed through it without even pausing, more shockingly were the men who stood by and merely nodded at her as she passed. There was no time for inquiries - at least none that Tina was willing to entertain. Percival allowed himself to be marched at a furious pace through the myriad of enclosures and animals with Queenie at his heels as if she was keeping him in check. Irritation, confusion, hope, fear, futility and a strong desire not to be disappointed warred within him. That was the only explanation as to why he wasn’t bursting into rage in indignation of the level of manhandling he was receiving. It took some five enclosures later for him to regain some control over himself.

“Miss Goldstein!” he snapped, his voice loud enough to startle the birds beside them. Tina whirled around eyes wide at the sudden outburst. Percival drew in a deep breath as he extracted his wrist back from the older Goldstein. 

“Mr Graves,” Tina said, he annoyance showing through her fine brows. “He’s here, believe me,” she pleaded.

Percival sighed, rubbing at his wrist as he looked away from the alpha woman. His heart was beating hard against his chest, something more than the brisk walk they had, something that made his jaw tightened. 

“You’re afraid that he won’t want you anymore…,” Queenie said in a soft kind of wonder. 

He glared at his secretary hard, the young omega had always been observant. It was a trait that Percival valued in her but that that moment he wished that she was not so. He had spent all this time looking for Credence, and had too much time to think about all the reasons why the omega could not be found. He found, selfish and sick as it was, that the idea of Credence being with someone else hurt more that the idea of him being dead. He had agonised over those feelings, almost went back to his childhood church over it. The guilt tore him up and even now he had not quite come to terms with those emotions.

“Did you know that rejected bond crimes are the most violent?” he asked casually, although his face must be anything but. The sisters took a small step back. Percival pulled his fraying seams back together as he closed his eyes and drew in steady deep breaths. He smelled moist feathers, shit, dirt, several different scents of the people around him and faintly, something familiar. It made him feel warm like a ray of sun beam upon him on a winter’s day.

Percival looked up and his breath caught in his throat. All the worries,, anxieties and frustration of their imagined meeting faded away. The million questions that he had always planned to ask Credence were silent instantaneously. Over Tina Goldstein holder, in a distance was Credence Barebone. 

He had pictured their meeting over and over again for so many months, some were truly horrible and always ended with Credence being dead or refusing to return to him anymore, some were moments of great joy and tenderness but they all paled in comparison to the reality of seeing him. Percival gave himself a moment to drink in the sight of Credence. His hair was longer in the front and messier like he hadn’t bothered much with it, his pale skin was tint with a lovely rosiness to it. The omega was absorbed in the papers in his hands. He looked…like a dream, it felt like a dream too. Suddenly no one mattered, he heard no sound other than the beating of his own heart. 

Then a man came into view, trailing behind Credence. Something about his stride and the way he was scenting up the place with alpha pheromones rubbed Percival in all the wrong ways. The man reached out to put his hand on the unsuspecting omega’s waist. Before Percival knew it he was there, in front of Credence, hand gripping the rival alpha’s wrist with a bone crushing force. 

“Percival!” Credence cried, he sounded shocked but his scent was pleased and happy. 

“Credence,” he said as he wrapped his own arm around his omega’s slim waist, pulling Credence away from the other alpha.

“Huh, nice to see you again, Percival,” the rival alpha said after his initial surprise had faded. He gave Percival a cool assessment and didn't seem to think much of what he saw. Percival glared as the man wrenched his arm free from his grip, seemingly unaffected by the strength of Percival’s grip. 

“Hello, Shaw,” Percival growled. Shaw put his palms into his pockets as he regarded the pair before him. There was something in his eye and a twitch in his jaw that told Percival that other alpha was barely holding himself back from physical violence. Good for him, because Percival was more than willing to engage. 

“Are you together?” he asked at last, not to Percival but to Credence who was standing shell shocked behind Percival. Credence took a while for any sort of reaction, his mouth moved slightly but nothing came out and he couldn't seem to stop staring at Percival. Shaw blinked then smiled one of his famous political smiles as he said, “No matter, you haven’t bonded and that’s what counts.”

“Don’t try me,” Percival warned.

“I hate to break it to you, Percy, but for people of our status, a relationship only counts if it’s here,” he said as he thrust a copy of the social segment of Shaw News under Percival's nose. There, in a small but eye-catching columns read the words, “Senator Shaw to be Courting Credence Barebone,” in dark bold letters.

“First step of courtship; public announcement. It means as much as a one night fling otherwise,” the dry stern voice of his mother ran through his ears from the back of his mind. 

Percival crumpled the paper in his grip. "Fuck you."

Shaw looked like he was about to throw something nasty to Percival’s face but then he did something so uncharacteristic, it threw Percival off his balance. The man actually looked slightly chagrined, like a schoolboy called to the principal's’ office. 

“Frankly, I had not the least idea that..." he stopped himself and looked away before starting again. "I never intended for it to be like this, Credence. Believe me,” he said to the omega. “But what’s done is done, we can only observe the rules of society.” he explained and Percival thought that he almost sounded regrettable. 

“I expect that I will be hearing from you,” he added to Percival. “Well… good luck getting your house to back your claiming,” he said, Percival winced. His mother - he would need to call her.

“You can’t!” Credence protested as the rival alpha begin to walk away, he sounded more in disbelief than he was angry. 

“I can and I have,” Shaw replied, then he paused in his steps. “I wish I could say I’m sorry,” he said over his shoulder, “But I’m not. I can’t just yield." He turned away, marching in the opposite direction. 

“Well…” Tina said from the back, “Shit.”

Shit indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I know it ends at a terrible cliffhanger but I'm working on Part 3 and will try to resume my weekly updates which would be on Wednesday or Thursdays. Stick around folks!


End file.
